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nalyra-dreaming · 11 days

Text

I've seen the episode!!!

(Some comments and) SPOILERS!!!!

Louis saying it was a betrayal and that he wants to be punished for it just when he finds happiness again via a hallucination of Lestat is so... ugh. Louis, honey, god. Also him imagining Lestat biting him - as a punishment, but he also wants it so badly, baring his neck, not trying to fight it, offering himself up there, he just wants the connection so badly. 😭 And god, Louis having Lestat call him out on his own denial. Damn. And Louis knowing he invited this Lestat as a distraction.

Also... that was definitely foreshadowing to how Louis will think the trial went.

And of course it would be a bat. Of course.™

Claudia driving them onwards, not giving one shit is just... incredible. Delainey is Claudia.

I was also right that she honed her senses and available gifts, more than Louis has his (which fits)

Daniel calling their plight the hunt for Moby Dick

Claudia is also... beautifully hopeful, and thereby almost desperately (intentionally) naive. She just wants to connect, so badly. To find more of their kind. And closes her eyes to what she sees. *deep sigh*

That "Adam and Even and God" comment was hilarious. Oh man, I cannot wait to see what the show will make of / with QotD and Memnoch etc.

Not only is Louis aware of forgotten memories now, he actively pursues them, and he has apparently read the missing pages before. And knows he has forgotten.

Claudia's diaries are unreliable, too (as predicted). Also, Louis correcting his own tale there, lol. Also: Armand‘s look and suggestion there.

Daniel and his little speech as to how he works… you go Daniel. “Here’s almost all the story“ lol

“Human affairs“

The revenants.... "the blood is bad here" *shivers* - I BET that's already setting up the "turning fails" arc with Amel, right there

God that old vampire connecting with Claudia, and then throwing herself into the fire in despair. God.

Morgan's arc was nicely condensed, the scene fittingly horrific

I live for Claudia speaking all the languages, but I noticed some of the subtitles were wrong

Whoever doubted DM happening... well. Sorry, but I AM seeing it. The looks, the smirks, the bitching.

Also "real Rashid" (lmao) - who, btw, does not wear a mask! What if the encounter with Eudoxia Marius had went differently and this is Rashid?

... someone wanting to buy a tryptich they haven't even put up for sale... *coughs* Marius? *coughs* (I mean, who else would know they have it? Or the Talamasca, maybe)

God that Dubai bedroom screams cage. And Armand controlling even the lights with his little iPad. Someone edit a blender into a screenshot of that scene.

The look Lestat gives Claudia at that last part of Louis' little speech. Devastating.

Also: the "I do I do I do I do I do"... Louis. Sweetie. I mean, I get it, but still.

Armand's comment that the boy from San Francisco is still in Daniel. Now if that is not foreshadowing.

A propos foreshadowing: Louis saying he will not choose the fire while Claudia walks the earth. *help*

"We cannot be the only good ones". Yeah... about that. -.-

Louis being so relieved that what Claudia wrote was not the truth

The. Score.

Louis pacifying Armand there with the little touches at the end. LOL (the whole setup makes me wonder if ARMAND has also forgotten some things btw). Also that little thank you kiss

The Groan. Once more seemingly when Armand is displeased, so it could be a metaphysical manifestation after all, especially since Louis seems to comment on it. (It could also be a red herring, we'll see.)

Daniel‘s “we‘ll get to you“ to Armand (lol)

Louis‘ guilty look to Lestat when he tries to pep talk Claudia 😭

EDIT: there were two very short flahback scenes with a comment to memory, which is setting up the big one later, no doubt about it, ugh

I legit teared up so often.

I have missed them all so much.

It's all I wanted, and more. Cannot wait to scream about it with everyone.

Also, last but not least: can I just say how glad I am our writers are playwrights.

#iwtv spoilers #iwtv s2 #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire s2 #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv season 2 #iwtv s2 spoilers #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #the devil's minion #armand #daniel molloy #devil's minion #iwtv claudia #claudia de lioncourt

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sundrop-writes · 3 months

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How would Spencer, Emily and Elle react to getting proposed to?

(I love this so much omg.)

(The reader here is entirely gender neutral.)

Requests are currently - OPEN

I feel like Elle would lowkey hate it? I think even if she was in a long-term relationship, she wouldn't be into traditional romance. She wouldn't be the PDA type of person, she would be the type of person to flirt with teasing insults and she wouldn't like things to get 'too sappy'.

I think Elle wouldn't even be too fond of the idea of marriage - she would be okay with just existing in a long term relationship (and would not want to open the door of 'I am terrified of someone leaving me so I don't want to get married because I don't want to get divorced'.) If she was with someone who did help her get over that, and she did want to get married, then she would want the marriage proposal to be simple, non-romantic, and predictable. (And most likely, Elle would want to be the one proposing, rather than the one getting proposed to.)

She would hate one of those very traditional, very romantic, public or semi-public proposals - especially if it was one that she didn't see coming. She would love the kind of proposal where you gave her a ring randomly while handing her the Sunday paper and when she asked what the ring was, you say "I think we should get married."

If that was the case, then she would smile and put the ring on, and tell you that it's a bother because she has to 'go to HR and get some BS paperwork about changing her marriage status' - but she says it with a fond smile, and you know that it's her way of saying she's looking forward to spending her life with you.

Emily would be shocked. Even if the two of you discussed marriage in the past and the possibility of getting married, she would still be shocked if you set up a proposal for her. She thought that she would be the one to propose to you, but she never had much romantic flare, and she got so caught up in working that she never set aside too much time to plan a proposal - and you got ahead of her and planned one before she could think too much about it. (You were very romantic, and even though she never said it much, you knew that she loved being romanced and swept off her feet.)

She is still a private person, so she wouldn't want it to be a public or even semi-public proposal - she would be okay if her close friends were there (basically, her BAU family), but that's about it.

I think she would love something like this - you waiting at the office when the team gets back from a case. You have had the help of Garcia (who just lives for this kind of stuff, and practically squealed with glee when you told her that you needed her help setting up a proposal for Emily) (and she had the hardest time not blabbing the secret to everyone, but she managed to keep it under wraps, even if everyone knew she was acting weird for some reason) - you printed out pictures of your relationship with Emily and decorated the round table room with them, themeing the room with pictures of beauty and happiness instead of all the horrific crime-scene photos that Emily has had to see there before.

Derek insisted that he needed Emily's attention in the room (because of course, on the way back, Penelope had called him, and talked his ear off about how he could help, all to excited about the prospect of romance and love) - and Emily stood in loving awe at seeing you in the middle of the room, candles lit, as you got down on one knee - and everyone funnelled in to watch as you gave an epic speech, summarizing how much you loved her and how, even if the world could be filled with horrors, you wanted to be with her through it all.

Naturally, she said yes - and there wasn't a dry eye among the team.

Spencer would absolutely love it.

Of course, because of traditional gender roles (and the heteronormative idea being planted in his head that he was likely going to end up in a straight relationship) - Spencer always pictured himself as the one who would perform the proposal, rather that the one being proposed to. Even when he first got into a relationship with you, it lingered in the back of his mind that he would probably be the one to plan the proposal and execute it - so when marriage was heavily discussed between the two of you, and it seemed like the true next logical step in your relationship, Spencer found himself delightfully surprised when you planned a marriage proposal for him.

He was the super romantic type. He loved doing hyper romantic things for you, but he was never prepared when you returned that romance for him. He wouldn't care if the proposal was public or not, but he would feel shy about things being centered around him for once and all the attention being on him - but he would love how much effort you put into it.

You made it perfect for him. You took him out on a date - going to his favourite restaurant, and then you took him to the planetarium. You proposed to him under a beautiful sky full of stars, with a simple ring that he could wear to show off the commitment - he tried to hide his tears of happiness in the darkness of the room, and he kissed you with the utmost passion after he said yes. He couldn't have been happier, knowing that this was the start of a long life that the two of you got to spend together.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#anonymous #sundrop writes #requests #requested #elle greenaway #elle greenaway x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

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python333 · 3 months

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since i just woke up from one and came here to seek comfort and get it out of my head,i had the idea of "why not ask them if they'd like to write such a thing?" So here i am.

The main thing is reader having a really grotesque, explicit and horrific nightmare (that's how most of mine are) could be getting tortured,put in a meat grinder,you get it,work your magic and write as you wish haha.And after they wake up with a heavy and tight chest, horrified naturally,it being out of their control,could you have the 141 members comfort us? Perhaps one way of getting most of their reactions would be setting up a scenario where they had to camp and sleep in the same place, something of the sorts,so yeah.

Honestly still not over the nightmare yet that shit was horrific haha,but yeah,hope this'll be a nice writing for you,if you wish to do so.Take great care of yourself dear,and take as many breaks as you need<3

how the sausage gets made — python333

— — — —

synopsis you have a very graphic nightmare, the 141 comforts you!!!

relationships platonic! 141 & gn! reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 3.2k

warnings nightmare about getting put through a meat grinder (not too graphic, but the imagery is still there), usage of [c/n] (code name/call sign), 2nd person pov (you/yours/youself)

note hi!! this is actually right up my alley, i really enjoyed writing this!! :D hopefully this somewhat comforts you/helps you get over the nightmare, and hopefully this was horrific enough for you!! ALSO i have a discord server now!! enjoy :3

You’re in some sort of freezer, it seems.

Your vision is a bit blurred at the edges, and your head feels awfully heavy, making it hard to keep upright on your neck. Your shoulders feel tight and tense, as though the muscles in them were physically bundled and tied into tight knots. Though, they aren’t tense in the way they typically are. Somewhere in the back of your mind—as your gaze wanders around the blue-tinted room you lay in—you can recall times after sparring sessions with a few of your teammates when your shoulders felt tight, and it was nothing like this. Those times, you could feel the knots as though they grew roots from your shoulders to your wrists. Unlike now, your shoulders feel lighter than those times.

Those times. You aren’t sure what “those times” refers to. All you can see and think about is the light blue tiling of the ceiling above you. It’s strange; you’ve only seen tiling like that on dingy bathroom floors in the public gym you used to go to. It’s never been on the ceiling like that. Huh.

You can’t really feel your hands, which is even stranger. You know where they are—they’re right at your sides, laying on the stingingly cold concrete floor of whatever room you’re in—and can hear the echoing taps they give whenever you lift and hit them lightly against the floor, but yet they feel numb. You move one of them, not nearly as off-put by the numbness as you should be, and lift it up and over your face. It looks normal. No, yeah, that’s my hand alright. Don’t know what I expected.

You put the hand back on the ground and using both hands you push yourself up from the floor, letting out a small grunt as you do. It takes an uncanny amount of force to push yourself upwards, but you manage to do so anyway, and you finally have a look at the room around you. You look ahead of you. Blue tarp. It’s shiny and almost looks woven, and if you squint your eyes enough, it looks grainy. You look to your left. More blue tarp. It’s of the same quality, the same quantity, and is in all aspects the exact same as the other blue tarp. You make a quick prediction before looking to your right, and, lo and behold, another blue tarp. How shocking.

It looks the same as the other two. Frowning, you look behind you, and surprisingly you are not met with yet another blue tarp. This time, there’s a large, shiny, stainless steel machine behind you. It’s a good ten feet away, about the same distance away as the tarps, and for some reason it beckons to you. Like Princess Aurora to her spinning wheel, you find the strength to push yourself up to your feet completely, and immediately you begin walking towards the metal machine without much resistance.

It doesn’t really hit you that you have no idea what this machine is or what it does. You don’t think you’ve seen anything like it. As you get closer, you can see a few items strung from the ceiling past the machine; weird plastic-clear looking tubes that are linked together in the same way clowns at parties twist balloons, and there’s iron-cast skillets hung on the ceiling from invisible hooks. Huh. Weird. Despite the oddities of the items strung from the ceiling, you keep walking towards the machine.

When you get even closer, the machine becomes less blurred and comes more into focus. It looks completely untouched. There’s a large funnel at the top, one that requires a ladder to get to—conveniently, there’s a ladder set up on and welded to the machine itself—and beneath that is a horizontal tube that tapers off into a smaller, funnel-like shape at the end with a much smaller opening. You tilt your head curiously at the machine. It’s so shiny. Though, the longer you stare at it, the grainier it gets.

Suddenly, cutting through your thoughts, you feel a harsh push at your back that almost has you knocking into the machine. Before you can even turn around to see who felt that they had the audacity to push you so harshly, that same entity that pushed you quickly lifted you into the air. Whatever they’re using to hold you up feels like absolutely nothing—as if they were just gathering enough air molecules to swoop you up.

“H—” You try to protest, but your throat doesn’t work. Before you can say anything, it just gives out, and leaves you wheezing for a moment before trying again only to discover that, to your horror, you cannot talk.

Your throat seems to close up every time you try to say anything. All that comes out are breathy wheezes and coughs that leave a strangely bad pain in your chest. As you try to stop your coughing, whatever is picking you up quickly dumps you into the large funnel on top of the machine. It’s cold and bites at your skin unforgivingly, making you hiss in discomfort. You don’t even clock how the cold is irritating your skin, despite you being fully clothed and none of your bare skin being exposed to the metal of the machine.

You try to move your hands to the sides of the funnel to push yourself up, but you move at a painfully slow speed, and can’t do anything but stand still. Like a mannequin, you’re forced into a standing position and can’t do anything but stand in the funnel. You look down, and you’re standing on what seems to be some sort of cylinder. The bottom of the funnel ends around your mid-calf.

Oddly, this reminds you of those nightmares you used to have when you were younger, where you were running from something or someone but moved too slow to get away.

Suddenly, the cylinder begins to move.

It spirals in place, making you quickly lose your balance and soon you’ve fallen in a lying position on the cylinder as it turns. It starts at a slow pace but starts to speed up, in time with your panic. You try to scramble to your feet but your limbs don’t allow it, keeping you stuck in place, the cylinder starting to turn even faster.

You’re uncomfortably folded and pushed through the small ending of the funnel as the cylinder keeps moving, and once you’re through, you start to hear a strange whirring.

It’s loud and sounds like some sort of shitty metal fan. It clangs against the sides of whatever tube you’re in and occasionally makes a horrible screeching noise that, if you could, you would cover your ears to escape. You turn your head to the side ever-so-slightly and see the “metal fan” itself—four sharp blades that spin clockwise, with a weird hole-filled circle behind them. You furrow—or, well, try to at least—your eyebrows at the sight.

The fuck is that? You don’t realize you’re getting closer to it.

The cylinder is now turning at an exceptionally fast pace, and only when you’re a few feet from the blades do you realize just how close you are to them.

“Wait—” You finally find your voice, though it sounds far away and is muddy in your ears, “Stop, stop—”

You’re not sure what else to say. You can’t tell if you’re begging, commanding, demanding, or anything of the sort. All you know is that the cylinder is going faster and faster, at an almost punishing pace that leaves you wondering what you could’ve done to deserve whatever the hell is happening to you. The blades emit an ungodly screech each time they get caught on a bump on the insides of the tube, and as you get even closer you can spot bright orange rust on the blades.

The texture is enough to make you gag. You’re getting closer, and closer, and soon you’re barely a foot away from it. The screeching and the whirring is so loud. You can’t hear anything else—or, wouldn’t be able to hear anything else, if there was anything else to be heard.

You can barely continue your train of thought before you feel a sharp, cold rush through your ankle.

You hadn’t been paying enough attention. You didn’t realize how close your feet had gotten to the blades.

The sound it had made when it was cut off was sickening. A loud pop, the same kind of pop that sounds when you break open the tab of a can. You open your mouth to scream but nothing comes out, and suddenly the rest of your leg is getting shredded by those same blades, and dear God, it’s so cold. It feels like dry ice cutting right through your calves, making its way up to your knees, soon to your thighs, much faster than you can process.

Your thoughts come in small fleets that go as soon as they come and you’re never able to continue or dwell on a single one, always getting interrupted by the white-cold pain that literally cuts through your upper thighs. You can’t feel anything from the waist down. You can’t feel your legs, your feet, and you’re losing feeling in your hips—

Your hands desperately grasp at the cylinder, and you’re not sure what you’re doing but you’re trying to do something, anything, as long as it delays the inevitable shredding of your torso and head. But it doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t. Whatever you had intended to do doesn’t work, and soon there’s a sharp cold pain that cuts into your ribcage, and suddenly you can’t even feel your stomach.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you can recognize the small sobs that escape you.

Your chest is the next to go, and soon it’s your shoulders, and even though they’re not gone yet your hands have already gone numb, and you’re bracing yourself for the sharp-cold pain to reach your neck when suddenly—

You wake up, body immediately getting into an upright sitting position and your chest heaving as sweat drips down your forehead. The sweat is cold and your breathing is loud in your ears, your ears which are filled with ringing, the sound of just anything enough to make your breath hitch and a sob crawl into your throat. With open-mouthed pants, you blink rapidly at the space in front of you, before quickly raising your hands to your face and letting out a loud, shaky sigh when you can actually feel the air moving through your fingers.

They aren’t numb. You plant them on the ground and just feel around, the rough fabric of your tent gliding under your hands. You shake your head vigorously, letting out another relieved sigh when you find that it’s still attached to your neck and hasn’t been sliced through. You move your legs and they’re still attached to your body. Everything is still on you. You’re in the same clothes you went to sleep in. You have all of your body parts. You are in one piece. Nothing is missing. You’re fine.

Despite repeating to yourself that everything’s okay—you’re physically together, you’re in a tent in the middle of the fucking woods and the worst thing that could happen to you is getting jumped by a bear in your sleep—nothing feels okay. There’s still the phantom feeling of getting put through a meat grinder that keeps a perpetual tremble in your bones, that keeps you unknowing of how to act like you’re in one piece. Not act. You are in one piece. But you aren’t. You swear, even though it was just some stupid dream, that it felt real enough to have actually happened.

“[c/n]?” Soap’s tired voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Right. We’re sharing a tent. You quickly whip your head to look at him, chest still rising up and down rapidly as your unstable breathing continues. You don’t say anything, simply staring at him with wide eyes.

“Are ye alright?” He frowns, quickly growing more awake the more concerned he gets, “Whit’s wrong?”

Maybe you’re in some form of shock, but you find yourself staying silent out of the fear of something happening. You’re not sure what that ‘something’ is, but it’s there, and it’s holding you back from even attempting to speak. Your breath hitches and your throat stings.

“Hey, uh,” Soap pushes himself up with a grunt and walks over a short few steps to you, kneeling down once he’s beside you, “Jist breathe, everything’s gonnae be alright.”

You know he’s not exactly the best at comforting people. He’s always been better with more technical things, and would much rather help you with math homework or something over trying to comfort you after something traumatic. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—of course he does, and he wishes he was much better than he is now at it—but he can never manage to find the right words.

He puts a tentative hand on your shoulder and you stare at it as it reaches you, flinching back immediately when you can actually feel his hand over your shirt. He pulls his hand back instantly, expression growing even more concerned.

“Do ye wannae tell me whit happened?” Soap whisper-asks. When you quickly shake your head ‘no’, Soap thinks for a moment before offering, “Do ye want me tae get onyone else?”

You think about his words for a moment before nodding. He sighs.

“Who?”

Your gaze flickers from the exit of the tent before going back to Soap.

“… Cap’n Price,” You quietly decide. Soap nods and reluctantly gets up, making his way out of the tent.

A few minutes later, you hear Soap walk back into the tent as well as another set of feet that trail right behind him. You look up and over at the entrance of the tent and see your Captain. His eyes are immediately on you, and as soon as he sees the mystified look in your eyes, he’s quick to make his way to you and kneel down beside you.

He doesn’t know what to say for a moment, you can tell. He instinctively brings a hand up to put on your shoulder like he typically would in situations like these, but something causes him to bring his hand back down and away from you. Maybe Soap told him how you reacted earlier? You brush off the thought for now, more focused on whatever Price is trying to do.

The reason you wanted him here instead of the others was mainly because you felt the least embarrassed around him. Which was weird, considering that he’s of the highest rank compared to you and the others, but still—you can’t imagine him judging you, not even for the most outrageous things. Maybe he’d have a small fit over you saying “soccer” instead of “football”, but otherwise, you can’t think of a world where he judges you for something like having a nightmare.

And sure, the others have them too and probably wouldn’t judge you either, but still. Price will probably always be your first option for situations like these.

“Soap hadn’t told me what happened, yet,” Price says softly, “D’you mind filling me in?”

If this were anyone else, you’d be fighting the urge to jump off a cliff, but because it’s not, you simply answer, “Nightmare.”

Your voice is a little clearer now, much to your relief, but it still carries that rasp from earlier. It doesn’t pain you to talk, but it does shock you that you even can, considering that you could barely form a whisper in your nightmare. And yes, that’s a silly thought, knowing that all of that was a nightmare, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“A nightmare, alright,” Price hums, before suggesting, “My tent’s bigger than yours, y’know. You wanna bring your sleeping bag over there, so we’re all together? Power in numbers, yeah?”

You nod mindlessly, agreeing with anything Price says. He smiles at you and hesitantly puts a hand on your shoulder, doing it slowly enough that you have plenty of time to let him know if it’s not okay, but you allow it. Price shoots a look at Soap and the latter nods, confirming whatever Price’s silent look asked him.

“Alright,” Price gives your shoulder one last squeeze before standing up, waiting for you to stand up as well. Once you do, he starts to walk out of the tent, expecting you to walk after him. Surprisingly, Soap gets up as well, sleeping bag and pillow in hand. Huh. Maybe that’s what he was confirming. You quickly pick up your sleeping bag and pillow, movements a little more stilted than usual as you didn’t expect to actually be able to move as quickly as you can now, and follow Price out of your tent.

You shiver as you walk out into the cold outside of the woods, and are quick to walk to the much bigger tent across from yours.

When you enter the tent, Gaz remains asleep while Ghost almost immediately wakes up. It’s uncanny, the speed at which his eyes open and dart to your figure—as if he was never asleep in the first place. You push those thoughts aside and wait for Price to walk in.

“Wh’t’s goin’ on?” Ghost asks sleepily, his British accent making his slurred words nearly impossible to decipher.

“They’re stayin’ in here for the rest of the night,” Price answers for you, nodding over to you as he refers to you.

Ghost looks over at you and you can sense his raised eyebrow despite not being able to see it. You look to Price to explain your situation for you again, and once he sees you look at him, he explains, “Nightmare.”

Ghost blinks before nodding understandably. Almost immediately, he conks out and goes right back to sleeping like the dead, making Price snort. Price turns to you, and gestures towards the empty spot next to Gaz, the spot conveniently empty and just perfectly sized for your sleeping bag. You walk over there as quietly as you can, shuffling around Ghost’s and Price’s sleeping bags, and gently lay your sleeping bag down next to Gaz’s.

You set down your pillow inside of the sleeping bag and kneel down as quietly as you can, a soft rustling sounding from your sleeping bag as you settle in. You turn on your side and let out a quiet sigh, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion. You’ve turned towards Gaz, and he’s turned towards you, and you look over his sleeping face for a moment before deciding to catch up on your own rest.

Just as you’re about to close your eyes, you watch his open.

“...” He stares at you for a moment, before he sleepily whispers, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“… Y’good?” He asks, looking at your still-glassy eyes and very-clearly-worn-out expression.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” You answer, trying to offer a tiny bit of reassurance.

“Alright,” Gaz hums, accepting your answer easily, and closing his eyes once again.

A small smile graces your lips. You’re all used to going to sleep easily, of course, on missions like these—you kind of need to be, given that you’re all military. It took you a bit, but you eventually got used to it, and gained that skill just a few months after joining the task force.

Speaking of which, you find yourself drifting off to sleep not long after Gaz closes his eyes again, and soon enough, you’ve already fallen asleep—this time, without nightmares or dreams.

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year

Text

The Winter Sun (18)

18. The Calm before the Storm

MASTERLIST

Summary: When everything is this calm under such horrific circumstances, you know a storm is coming

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Targaryen Reader

Warnings: Cursing, medieval and asoiaf customs, AGE GAP, Cregan is 12 years OLDER than reader), arranged marriage, war! and all that comes with it, death of a character, talk about war and battles, the dance is coming folks!. might miss some warnings

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3 k

Notes: things are heating up!!

“My brother died alone”, whined Jacaerys, at least by now, three days later, he had stopped crying, he raised from his chambers to eat and drink, and now he was drunk on arbour wine, but at least he was processing it

“He died on top of his dragon”, you said, caressing his arm, “like a true Targaryen”, you had to hide your own sadness and fears.

Aemond had killed him.

The man that had said that he was going to come for you when his brother is King.

His brother was King

“I should have been there, it should’ve been me”, he said

“No”, you said

“You don’t understand!”, he said, “that day he was so nervous, I told him to “man up””, he whined, “he didn’t want to go, he wasn’t ready, he told my mother so, and we made him go anyways”

“You could have never predicted this”, said Sara, touching his other arm, you looked over the table at Cregan, and it was kind of comical how he was sitting there alone and you and Sara were comforting Jace

“I know… but…”, you only shushed him gently as you kept comforting him. You were snowed in Winterfell, and you and Cregan had to restrain him and prevent him from taking to the skies to return to Dragonstone, a few yards into the sky and he was sure to freeze to death.

Bitter tears fell down his cheeks

“My baby brother”, he whined, “he was only sixteen”, you laid your head on his shoulder

“They will pay for everything”, you said, determined, “they will”

But you weren’t certain, the last thing you wanted to do was make the North march on the South, to battle, were thousands could die, it was certainly not the best idea, but you had to do something, Cregan was sworn to Rhaenyra, if she said to march, they will have to.

Getting Jace into bed was tricky, he was drunk on wine and he stumbled down the corridors, Cregan grabbed his arm to pass it over his shoulders to help him to his chambers, you and Sara shared concerned looks

“We need to make reinforcements on Winterfell’s walls”, she said decisively

“You think he will come all the way here?”, you asked, fearful, she only looked at you worried

“He just might”, she whispered, in her eyes there was sadness, but you probably just imagined it

You met Cregan again in your chambers, the nannies had taken Rickon, but they were soon going to bring him back to you. Cregan was so tense and silent, not with you, but you could feel it in the air.

“You are worrying”, he said

“You too”, you accused, he sighed

“I am”, you shared looks, “we have barely survived winter and a war is coming”

“I know”, you whispered, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if you had nothing to do with it, it was your family that was going to fight each other, “you don’t have to go”, you assured him, “we don’t have to fight this war”

“I’m sworn to Rhaenyra”, he said, “the Hightowers.. they betrayed her, they usurped the throne, they need to be brought to justice”, he said, and you realized this has somehow struck a nerve inside of your husband

“You don’t have to be the executioner of that justice”, you said softly

“I will support my Queen”, he said, “with us, as will others, we will be a great army, half the continent at the least, they will not stand a chance”

“They have dragons”

“The blacks also has dragons”, he said, “more by our counts”

“Still”, you whispered

“War comes at a great price, but in the end…”, he said walking until he held you in his arms, “we will prevail”, he said, you looked into his eyes and saw nothing but certainty

“But Cregan…”, you tried to fight but he shushed you gently”

“My love”, he called back, his eyes had this immense power over you.

“But what if we do not prevail?”, you asked with tears in your eyes and a trembling voice

“I’ll tell you why”, he said, he made you sit on the edge of the bed and he seated right next to you, “I will tell you a part of a speech my father gave me when I turned fifteen, in his eyes I was a man, and he believed I needed to hear this words”, you looked at him wide eyed, “I believe we will prevail because you need to believe certain things…”

“What things?”, you asked

“That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love... true love never dies”, he cradled your face between his hands, “You remember that, my love. You remember that. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in”, you close your eyes and just cherish the moment. You closed your eyes and he kissed your lips softly

“I love you”, you whispered, love-drunk and in a Cregan-haze

“I love you, my true love, my silver dragon, my summer princess”, he praised, and you buried your face in his chest as he held you.

“Aemond what have you done?”, Alicent snapped, “you killed Lucerys!”, Aemond but all ignored his mother, serving himself a cup of wine

“He was intended to rally allies against my brother”, he said, “what would you have me do?”, he asked then, looking at her

“Not killing him, we have given then a reason to throw the Kingdoms into war!”, she all but yelled, looking at him with teary eyes

“I think we gave them a reason to when we imprisoned them and usurped her throne”, he mocked

“You don’t seem upset that you killed your nephew”, she whispered, scared of what she saw in her son, her favorite and most favored son

“I did not command my dragon to swallow his”, he said simply, “Vhagar decided on her own to eliminate that threat”

“I don’t believe you, no one will”, she said with a trembling voice

“It happened what it needed to happen”, he said, “the war was going to start one way or another”

“Aemond…”

“I need to speak to my brother”, he said bitterly, and left the room

To the surprise of no one, he found his brother - The King- in his chambers, laughing, already drunk and the sun had barely set on the horizon.

As soon as he saw him, Aegon began to clap and laugh hysterically

“If it isn’t the Kinslayer”, he laughed, Aemond flinched at the sour nickname, “don’t make that face brother”, he said, “I’m actually congratulating you”, hes aid bitterly, “our cunt of a sister will take months to weep and cry, you have given us the perfect opportunity to attack that wretched island and kill everyone on it”

“We have yet to prepare the army”, he said, “the Lannister fleet in on the other side of the country, an attack on that scale is going to take months to prepare…”, but Aegon moves his hand, dismissing his brother’s words

“The little shit is dead…”

“yes”, he whispered, Aegon looked into his brother’s eyes and laughed even harder

“You are here for her, aren’t you?”, he mocked, “Gods, brother, you are so predictable”

“She is in the North”, he said

“And she will remain there, until that freaking snow melts”, he said, it was funny, Aegon’s mouth moved but the words that came of it were his grandfather’s

A marvelous thing

Aemond didn’t liked the answer, but it made sense

“We are assuming the Starks will side with the bitch, but they will nor march now, we have months…”

“And then?”, he asked

“When the Starks and the North show their true colors I will give you what you asked of me brother”, he said with a teasing smile, “I will strip those dogs of everything they have, and as they are marching we will burn them, they will never get past The Neck”

This didn’t pleased Aemond

He considered himself a patient man, but with you? he couldn’t wait no longer, but he had to

“And then?”

“You can go and get her yourself”, he said with that wicked smile of his, “but leave the pup to the northerners”

And with that Aemond left the room.

The armies were gathering, the dragons were restless, Westeros was going to burn.

And he couldn’t wait

As the Baratheon prepared his army, Aemond was preparing the Royal army, and together they were going to march North and burn everything and everyone that sided with Rhaenyra.

But it could take months

You had not commented on it, but Jacaerys spent a lot of time gazing at your son, you only smiled and encouraged it, in his eyes was longing, and dreams of a future, a shy smile on his lips as he let Ricked grab his index finger in his small hand.

Sara would often join him with a soft smile and kind words, they were spending an awful lot together, and Cregan grew worried, very worried.

But how could we deny him?

Cregan was growing distant, not with you personally, but you could tell he was preparing for something, he was getting in a tough mental state to be in.

He was preparing for war, for battle, for the hunt and for the kill of his enemies

It wasn’t easy

You were growing restless as well, a storm could be seen on the horizon. you wanted the snow to melt, so you could go with Jace, fly back to Dragonstone and get your dragon, you will feel so much better once she is here, near you. Vhaelar was one of the biggest dragons in the family, well, nothing could compare to Vhagar, but… she was similar in size with Melyes, and just as formidable.

She was the hatchling of one of the Conquerors, after all, the same one she was expected to fight.

But you were getting ahead of yourself.

As you looked at Rickon, sleeping soundly, unaware of the dangers and the cruelties of the world, you wanted to convince yourself that Aemond was not going to come for you, he wasn’t. Why would he want you to know? you had a child, you belonged to another man, surely he was now after a marriage pact with the Baratheons or the Tullys, or the Tyrells, the Lannisters even, why would he want you for? after all this time?

He had probably already forgotten you.

You were interrupted by Cregan

“Autumn finally came back”, he said, “she was hunting but… she is here”

“Great”, you said with a wide smile

“I think it’s time”, he said, looking a you wide eyed, expectantly, and you sighed, but nodded

“Very well”

You stood by the entrance to the Godswood as Cregan took Rickon in his arms. He has told you he wanted to do this, you weren’t quite sure but you couldn’t deny him, you wanted to do the same when Vhaelar was here.

Between the trees appeared the dark fur of your husband’s direwolf, her golden eyes looked at his bonded human, but she approached slowly, lowering her head when she sniffed at the air and realized Cregan wasn’t alone, but in fact, she looked over him at you, and then back at Cregan.

You were amazed at how intelligent she was, she reminded you of Vhaelar in some capacity.

“Autumn”, called Cregan, “this is Rickon”, he introduced them, still with your baby glued to his chest, he showed the little face of your son to the Wolf. And took a step forwards so he was at Autumn’s reach, that made you uneasy, but he was safe, safer than ever.

Autumn came so close to him you gasped, but remained calm, because you trusted your husband completely

The Shewolf sniffed at Rickon, and she drew a delightful, soft whine, identifying the boy as a part of Cregan, you guessed, and then she leaned in and lapped at his little face. Cregan laughed wholeheartedly

“Good girl, this is your boy now”, he presented and you smiled widely, Rickon sneezed and Autumn drew back but then she leaned forwards again.

She rested the tip of her snout on Rickon’s chest, and then, she took some steps back, to turn around and disappear back again into the woods. Cregan turned back to you with the brightest smile he had drawn since your son was born, and you, as well, were terribly happy.

That night Cregan has convinced you to leave Rickon to the nannies, you reluctantly agreed, so you could have a proper dinner, seated with your family, Sara, Jace, and the Lord and Ladies that had managed to come to Cregan’s calling. You were also celebrating the soon end of the winter season. The days were getting long back again, the sun was shining in the sky.

Even though a war was coming, you felt the need to celebrate, and deep down you were scared that what you truly wanted to do was enjoying what you had as long as you had it.

But you shake your head as you nibble on your lamb chop, certainly a delicacy that you could enjoy now the snow was melting.

You looked over at Jace, that, omitting tradition, was not seated by your side but he asked to be placed next to Sara, at the other side of Cregan, and they were chatting amicably.

You didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

To your knowledge, Jace was betrothed, promised to Baela Targaryen, daughter of Daemon, and Sara, well, Sara was too nice, kind and beautiful to have her hopes up by someone who was promised to another girl.

You needed to have a chat with them later, as you take Cregan’s hand in your and squeezed reassuringly , he looked back at you and smiled warmly, and then you both turned to look at Lady Bolton, to keep chatting with her about the Dreafort’s defenses and how she could assure you that the maester she had in her disposition had been in Dorne and he was certain he could replicate scorpions to take down the Green’s Dragons.

And how that was going to make a difference

If it was up to you would have made hundreds of them to palace them in the Winterfell’s battlements, but Cregan wasn’t particularly interested in the tale.

Even though you were already fully healed, mostly, your lack of sleep made you tired, so you excused yourself from the table and stood up to go back to your chambers. Cregan promised he was going to follow soon after, but you will not hold him up to that.

The guards smiled at you as you walked by and you smiled back, but as you reached the last floor, your chamber’s floor, you came face to face witht he nannies, that had pale expressions in their faces

“What is going on?”, you asked

“My lady, we can’t go into the room”, squealed one

“Why not?”, but you did not care for the answer you ran down the corridor and over to your rooms and one of the nannies, the youngest and fastest, ran to fetch Cregan. The door was open so you couldn’t understand why… and then

“Autumn” you called, standing so still, she could easily jump you and maul you to shreds, the she-wolf looked back at you, and you gasped when you saw what she had on her jaws.

A puppy

And then you heard it, the moans and whimpers of puppies.

She leaned over the crib and placed the pup besides Rickon, and alongside her whole litter of six pups, all of them cuddling and sharing the crib of your son

You didn’t know if you were going to cry, or shout, or faint, or laugh or die with the cuteness.

She had placed her pups in your son's crib and you couldn’t believe it.

Cregan found you still on the doorway, smiling, and as he followed your eyes…

“It appears that she wasn’t hunting”, you told Cregan, and he only laughed loudly, “she was having pups of her own”, you said with a smile. Autumn laid down at the foot of the crib, and towards the door, protecting her cubs, all of them.

“What a great thing”

Taglist! ❤️ @severewobblerlightdragon @missusnora @stargaryenx @poppyreader @chainsawsangel @court-jester-stuff @batprincess1013 @eddiepicker

@lyannesworld @arujee @kamisunshine @mss-nthng @partypoison00 @grimistangel @elleclairez @may-machin @prettykinkysoul @justagurlwithships @champomiel

@laura-naruto-fan1998 @zoleea-exultant @devotedlythoughtfulanchor @zoleea-exultant @llleon666 @dark-night-sky-99 @bitchigoteverythingissues @harrypotteranna23-blog

@esposadomd @ajanauia @phantomtea19 @let-love-bleeds-red @kishie8 @dreamingofyourmoons @esposadomd @sandronebabyy @kemillyfreitas @trifoliumviridi @dreamingofyourmoons @darling-jace @biblichorr @ivvypg @mendes-bae @borikenlove @tssf-imagines @praline357 @alitaar @prettykinkysoul

More notes: that “speech” is from my favorite movie, “Secondhand Lions”, my comfort movie, and those words are what I sometimes have to remember myself hehe

#misguidedwinter #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan x reader #cregan stark #targaryen!reader #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark #targaryen!oc

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wallterwall · 12 days

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-Yum Zlurplie

You know what? Fuck you. You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been better off if you'd never joined us. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you.

Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring. You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the infected plague apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created. If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again. The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world. You are an irresponsible, idiotic, disgusting, unloved, horrible excuse for a living being who’s soul contains less humanity than every ginger in history combined. The absolute disgust I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your unholy actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it I think that even I do not posses a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it. When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe.

My hate for you and everything you stand for is so much deeper than the depths of Shambala that you could probably take the entire Lungmen population down there and back up around twenty million times before you would have sunk to the end of my hate, and honestly, I do not want to exaggerate, but I think that that insult was low balling it such a massive amount that all mountains in this world combined would not be able to stack up to this imprecise judgement in light of the fact that when being honest, my hate is almost certainly bottomless. There is no one in this world that has ever loved you, and especially after what you just did, no one will ever love you in the future either. There is no hope that your idiotic behavior and especially your crooked soul will ever change for the better, and in fact quite the opposite might be true. By making the mistake that you just did, you have shown me that you are so incredibly hopeless that you will only devolve into a more idiotic and wretched creature than you already are. The only possible way in which your future would be brighter than the black hole your existence currently is would exclusively be because there is absolutely no conceivable way that you would even be able to sink lower than the pathetic place your current failure has put you in. But then again, you are so incredibly abominable that you would probably be able to surpass the worst conceivable failure a living being could possibly make. You are so incredibly pathetic that you are honestly not worth any more of my words nor my time. Just remember that I will forever detest you for your failure and everything you stand for, and no matter what happens, I will never ever forgive you.

#wallter answers

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seanleannan · 5 months

Text

Okay so in no particular order, I haven't read the third book yet, but here are my opinions on The Foxhole Court and The Raven King (SPOILERS BELOW):

- I love Andrew SO MUCH. He's so complicated and funny and literally crazy and I think he's a brilliant character. I love Neil too, and I think Kevin is... fine. I like Nicky, I feel really bad for him. I didn't really form any set opinions on any character until near the middle of the second book, and when the whole scene where they drugged Neil happened I was like UM?!?!?!? Didn't like them for a good bit after that

- My heart actually broke because Neil just wants to play Exy, and he KNOWS he shouldn't sign to the Foxes but he just wants to play the game he loves for one YEAR THAT'S ALL HE WANTS

- The story of how Neil's mum died. And the whole trauma of having to burn her body, and not being able to keep anything of hers (even her phone, and then not having a phone until Andrew forced him) was horrific

- Andrew being physically small and then being the most terrifying, unpredictable agent of chaos is fucking phenomenal

- The other Foxes calling Andrew's gang "the monsters" is soooo good I love that

- I did NOT expect Seth to die and it threw me. I literally had no clue what this book was about when I read it lmao

- Andrew and Aaron's relationship. Oh my god. They literally killed for each other. I am not okay

- The Ravens, as Neil so aptly points out, are ABSOLUTELY A CULT. No one should ever care about anything as much as they care about Exy. It's insane. The matching outfits and the like secret hideout?? Nope. Get me out of there

- I actually can't even talk about the whole bit with Drake because it was so awful, all I'll say is I'm glad that mf is dead

- Andrew trusting Neil with his car AND to protect Kevin?? They're in love, your honour. A weird, fucked up kind of love, but in love nonetheless

- Neil spending Christmas with the Ravens. The forced tattoo. The literal near-death beatings and abuse. All for Andrew

PREDICTIONS FOR THE FINAL BOOK

- Neil's dad is going to appear somehow

- Neil and Andrew are going to have some weird kind of relationship that neither one wants to define and it'll probably end badly and break my heart

- Riko dies (I'm crossing all my fingers and toes for this)

#the foxhole court #the raven king #nora sakavic #all for the game #aftg

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factorialsotherfandoms · 6 months

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Initial thoughts on QSMP egg cookies (obviously both the system and thoughts will develop over time) (I am somewhere between a crow and a very confused rat, I am biased to certain eggs in certain ways, and I've really been enjoying stuff characters have been up to without the eggs - particularly Phil, but also Pac and Fit dungeon dates - so I was hoping the number of days needed would be reduced so the players could change without eggs to do personal lore or go exploring or building or whatever and the like. I am biased, it's not quite 7am and I was up til gone midnight before I gave up on the streams, disclaimer disclaimed):

Both the concept and the UI are adorable. Especially those happiness bars that's so cute. Can be a bit dark given they're Federation cookies, but it's still very cute.

3 cookies available a day for total of 9 cookies in principle makes it the same as before, buuut if a task is shitty or egg parents are a bit pressed for time they can split it over the week. 9 tasks (presumably) a week is better than 5 a day for 3 days in terms of CCs being able to pace themselves. Especially if there's shit day like the grappling squark day way back.

Cookies can presumably be saved week to week, which is also helpful.

Eggs not needing to be online to do the tasks helpful! Just gotta get online to eat the cookies.

I don't think tasks like "attend an event" or "visit a friend" can work on the new system and that's extremely sad. Maybe it can, but the handing in seems important. Purgatory did have the kills, buuuut going places doesn't have an easy server insides like murder does.

The half points for non-parents is really sad? I actually love babysitting streams and this is going to discourage them so hard. It's also going to cause problems if someone like Fit or Philza or BBH or Foolish ever goes away. Because that's then 6 days to keep each of their eggs alive. 18 cookies.

Limited number of cookies a week is going to cause problems. We know there's an irl meetup at the end of the year. I severely doubt there will be enough people on the server to get 60 cookies (itll be somewhere between 30 and 60, because non-parents only count for half), and I also doubt enough will have been saved up by then. Forcing someone to choose which of the other parents eggs live and die is horrific, and there is no option for them to just spend time grinding the tasks for the other eggs. Also if someone gets sick or something or their computer dies and can't stream? There's not necessarily stuff saved up to help.

Having to save up cookies means no more getting to Friday, seeing egg with no ticks, and grinding Friday-Saturday-Sunday. If you're looking after someone else's egg you now have to start Tuesday, and it's only possible if you don't have your own or you have a backlog. Which nobody does yet. Which sucks because who doesnt love to see a hundred eggies trailing after BBH (or Tazercraft as I recall happened for twitchcon France) while everyone else is at twitchcon?

Tallulah is going to discuss with the other admins her circumstances. So I'll hold speaking about her and Chayanne in terms of future stuff (and I didnt watch to the end of Phil's stream today so I dont know if he gave them the cookies or what, Tallulah did say a placeholder was in place). But also, this was a predictable problem they 100% should have accounted for in advance. Tallulah and Chayanne both having (in practice if not in lore) only one and the same caretaker who streams a limited but precisely known number of days (exactly as many as was required to keep them alive on the old system) should have been accounted for at the point of system creation. I can't see a fix which doesn't either make Phil a massive exception, or force him to put one of his kids up for adoption, and that's unhappy to me. I'm sure theyll think of something, but they should have already thought of it and implimented it before the new system was in place. Tallulah-admmin should have been able to answer Phil's questions about her parental status and how he's going to be able to provide for two eggs.

The above would be less of a problem (still a problem but less of one) without the 0.5 for non-parents rule. But it would still be a problem.

As someone between a crow and a rat, I'm going to be salty. Atm Richas only has Pac, which is fine. But I can see it getting extremely frustrating when Richas has 3 to 5 caretakers over the week all of whom can do his tasks so he can be done in a day and otherwise do fun stuff - and as before his parents can pass him around to work on their stuff - while Philza's back to doing only childcare (I'm sure his lore won't just die to it, but it's going to get pushed aside as are any of the building projects he was considering). Which was always going to happen with eggs back and isn't really a change from before, except that multi-parent eggs can be done in a day. Seeing how full Em's bar was when Phil and his eggs sang by spawn should have been fun, but it just made me feel bitter and I hate that.

Once players run the maths it's going to discourage them from taking time off when they need to, especially the single parents, and I know these are adult professionals with their own lives who can talk to people, but also theyve already proven they're shit at prioritising themselves. The Philza streaming at stupid o'clock in the morning while sick so Chayanne didn't die streams are kinda an excellent example, but also Purgatory (especially Bolas). Like that Philza stream is legendary but is frankly actually horrifying. And the admins know the players pull this shit and /are/ in a position of authority and /do/ have a level of control over not just the players' fun but their livelihoods, and they shouldn't be making it harder.

It's cute, it's adorable, it solves a couple of problems the old system had while introducing massive and predictable new ones. The system doesn't seem to have been thought all the way through or the consequences actually considered which is an oversight not a maliciousness, but much like a buggy or untested video game is much harder to fix after players have gotten their hands on it than before. Much like purgatory whatever they do to fix it is still going to taste bad because the initial release was flawed. Worse, it's going to be massively different reception by different bits of the community, because it's goingto make life a easier for some ccs and harder for others: Fit's only here one more day this week, and is already worried about who can take care of Ramon - he asked Philza who wanted to but can't because he has his own eggs to manage, and I just... that was very unpleasant. Especially with Chayanne writing "we can't let him die" and Philza saying words to the effect of what do you want me to do I don't even know if I can keep both of you alive. Meanwhile Em is already 2/3s done for the week. On Monday. Which in theory means Bagi could look after Ramon, but see the 0.5 and it punishing non-parents for trying to help out!

System makes it significantly easier to keep your kid alive if you're a parent with shared custody (3 parents and you can be done in a day), a little harder for single parents (other people have to work double), and (as currently stands with no super obvious solution) extremely difficult for the single parent with multiple eggs he's the only active parent of.

TBH if a game I was playing added something like this, especially as the player had no idea of the changing rules in advance, I'd fucking leave. It's a massive red flag to me - not of ill intent or a lack of love but of a lack of forethought and such. It'd make a neat special event or whatever, but only if everyone knows and agrees in advance and only if there's not consequences to refusing.

Plot stuff being hidden from players but much like with purgatory players reeeeeally need to be given more mechanical changes info in advance. I would bet if theyd shown these rules to the players in the discord Philza would have gone "what about Tallulah" and Fit would have gone "I've got a trip what about Ramon" and BBH would have gone "hey I've had to semi-regularly solo-parent 5+ eggs because cons and stuff how do I protect them" and this would have been smoothed out. (Maybe a parent can nominate babysitter/s and said babysitter can cash out as many times as they have eggs in their care each day? Idk). But because it got shown to players on screen with these massive holes still there, people (like me) will be salty and it'll never taste good.

#fandom neg #qsmp crit #qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp cookies #These took like an hour and a half blegh #I wish I could think in cute instead rn

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keikotwins · 4 months

Text

Mokumokuren

Birds of different feathers flock together

Noticed online by head-hunting publishers, Mokumokuren hasn’t waited very long before polarising the attention of Japanese readers. With strange The Summer Hikaru Died, horrific bromance dealing with body dispossession, the mangaka signs a series of sophisticated oddity, that sets itself apart from the predictability of current fantasy productions.

Interview by Fausto Fasulo. Original translation: Aurélien Estager. English translation: “Keikotwins”. Bibliography: Marius Chapuis. Thanks: Camille Hospital & Clarisse Langlet (Pika), Yuta Nabatame, Mayuko Yamamoto & Mana Kukimoto (Kadokawa), Chiho Muramatsu (Tohan)

(T/N: Interview given to ATOM in winter 2023; 2 volumes were out in French.)

In an interview given to the CREA website in November 2022, you confided inventing stories since very young. Did your first fictions resemble the ones you draw nowadays?

It’s true that there are quite a lot of common points between the stories I imagined when I was a child and the ones I tell nowadays in my mangas. Especially a specific motif, that has been haunting me since the time when I wasn’t really aware of the world surrounding me: the presence amongst us of “non-human” beings, that nonetheless have a perfectly normal, ordinary appearance…

And how was this “obsession” born?

Precisely identifying the origins is complicated, my memories are too blurry, I think… What I can tell you is that I’ve always been fascinated by “creatures”. For example, I remember being very impressed by Peter Jackson’s bestiary in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. By the way, still in a fantasy register, I am also a big fan of Harry Potter adaptations… (She thinks.) And I’ve always liked yōkai stories, you know. I think that what I like in all these mythologies is the idea of species classification: each has its own characteristics – physical, biological – its own way to apprehend its environment.

In Japan, yōkai are integral part of regional folklore. Did the place you grew up in have some specific beliefs?

I was born and grew up in Tokyo, and, as you must know, yōkai are mostly associated with rural areas. I was thus never really bathed in this type of regional fantasy folklore. There are all kinds of yōkai and we can perhaps see in some more contemporary urban legends the echo of certain past beliefs? (She thinks.) I am a bit frustrated, because I believe that I could remember a legend that would have impacted me, but nothing comes to mind immediately, sorry!

You have already said so in an interview and it’s quite obvious when reading your work: you are a big amateur of horrific fiction. What has been your first contact with the genre, all medium included?

It was television that introduced me to horror: special shows, television films, series, I was watching these programs with a mix of fear and enthusiasm, a confused sensation that particularly delighted me! (She thinks.) And amongst all the aired shows, I will remember two titles: Hontō ni atta kowai hanashi and Kaidan shin mimibukuro*.

* Inspired by the homonymous manga magazine published by Asahi Shimbun, Hontō ni atta kowai hanashi (lit. “Scary stories that really happened”) is a series produced by Fuji Television that has been airing more or less weekly since 2004. Derived from literary material (a series of compilations of hundreds of short stories by Hirokatsu Kihara and Ichirō Nakayama, published from 1990 to 2005) Kaidan shin mimibukuro is a series made of several short movies depicting ghost stories based on real testimony.

Did you read horror mangas when you were young?

Let’s say that I was more interested in live-action productions. Nowadays, I obviously appreciate some horror manga authors, without pretending to be any expert in the subject. For example, I like Junji Itō’s work, but I am far from knowing it for a long time… (She thinks.) I could also talk about Shigeru Mizuki, who I also appreciate a lot.

The mechanics of fear aren’t the same in occidental and oriental fictions. You like American horrific productions – like Ari Aster movies – as much as ones from Japanese origin – you notably quote Ichi Sawamura novels and Kōji Shiraishi feature films. Can we say that you are tying these two perspectives with The Summer Hikaru Died?

My relationship with horror is more imbued with oriental sensitivity. But what I find remarkable in occidental horrific productions is work on image. In The Shining like in Ari Aster movies, for example, there is real research made on frame composition and choice of colours. I also try to follow this aesthetic reflection in my work as a mangaka.

In Ari Aster’s work, beyond the very precise staging, there is this permanent desire of ambiguity. Do you try to dig this same equivocal trench?

Absolutely. I try to tell complex feelings as well in The Summer Hikaru Died, like fear dyed with nostalgia or attachment, repulsion mixed with fascination, with attraction…

How do you “sort out” the shots that inspire you in cinema?

I don’t draw while freeze-framing during specific scenes. I would always rather watch a movie as a “focussed” spectator. However, I pay a lot of attention to the way the director composes their frame. I sometimes take some notes, but I most often simply keep it in a corner of my mind.

Could you tell us when and how the story and characters of The Summer Hikaru Died appeared to you? Have they matured a long time within you?

I’ve started thinking about this story when I was preparing university entrance exams. I was aspiring to join an art uni, and I was drawing every day. I can’t really say I made my characters “mature”: back then, I wasn’t thinking that the drawings I was making would one day end up being published, way less being serialised! I innocently created characters close to me, without guessing that one day they’d become manga protagonists.

One of your foundational reads was Sui Ishida’s Tokyo Ghoul manga. Can you tell us how you discovered it and what effect it had on you?

I don’t really remember how I discovered this series, but what I know is that I became crazy about it at first read. What I liked – and what I still like – is this idea of telling a story that confronts humans to these “different” beings while following the point of view of a character that represents alterity. Beyond this strictly dramatic aspect, Sui Ishida’s storyboarding and character design have had a strong impact on my work. However, I want to add that Tokyo Ghoul isn’t the only title I took inspiration from, I obviously have other references…

Do you do a lot of researches to define the design of your characters? You seem to draw them easily, in a very natural gesture…

I haven’t spent a long time defining my protagonists. First, there are few in the manga, then, they evolve in a rather realistic universe. My goal was rather simple: they had to look believable in the reader’s eyes. I wanted people to be able to imagine crossing them in the street, you see?

It’s after seeing illustrations posted on social media that depicted the future characters of The Summer Hikaru Died that the publishing department of the Young Ace Up magazine noticed you. How have you reacted when approached?

I was very surprised, because I absolutely wasn’t trying to become a mangaka. I would have never projected in such a future, you see. And, very honestly, if they hadn’t suggested working on this series, I don’t think I would ever had pushed the doors of a publishing house… I am then very thankful towards the persons who have allowed me to enter.

And what would you have done if you hadn’t been solicited?

Back when I’ve been contacted, I was considering – still vaguely – working in the video games field. But I wasn’t really proactive, I wasn’t contacting anyone, wasn’t sending resumes…

Did you want to do chara-design?

Why not, yes. What I like in video games is the range of possibilities they offer. You can then create an entire universe and this is rather exhilarating.

So you’re a gamer…

I have dropped my controller since I’ve started drawing manga. But yes, when I had more time, I played rather regularly, especially Nintendo productions…

Even if you play rather little nowadays, do video games influence your work?

I can’t say whether it really is an influence, but the Undertale game has left a big mark on me. I felt its creator’s strong will to surprise players, to make them feel unprecedented sensations…

Horror manga only relies on art and storyboard to provoke fear, whereas cinema and video games can also rely on sound. Is it from this observation that you have decided to particularly work on your sound effects?

Absolutely. I have thought a lot about the way to introduce and stage sound in The Summer Hikaru Died. The sound effects that you can find in the manga are indeed the result of this approach.

In an interview given to the Realsound website, you mention the use of the シャワシャワ (“shawa shawa”) sound effect. Knowing that occidental readers are way less sensitive to these graphicoustic details, can you explain its meaning?

“Shawa shawa” expresses the song cicadas make in western Japan. It’s a very special noise because in the different regions live different species that make specific sounds. So when I choose this specific sound effect, I convey a geographic and temporal piece of information to the reader, who can then guess the location and season the action takes place in. (She thinks.) When using this sound – that we especially find in the beginning of the manga – my goal was to play with silence, particularly when the song stops. I thus had the idea of representing this sound effect with an easily readable font, so the reader would make no effort to decipher it, as if the sound was asserting itself naturally, you see? I hoped to suggest a saturation they couldn’t avoid and that, when it’d stop, would immerse them in absolute silence.

The Summer Hikaru Died transcribes very well this particular atmosphere of Japanese summers…

Yes, I really wanted to signify this languor in my manga. And the cicadas’ song we discussed earlier contributes to creating this atmosphere: it’s an overwhelming sound, sometimes irritating, you cannot escape from in summer – Japanese readers obviously know what I’m talking about. (She thinks.) I also gave special attention to shadows: summer light being very bright, shadows are very sharp, very deep.

Do digital tools allow you to get this result more efficiently than traditional?

I work on Clip Studio Paint, and it’s true that it sometimes allow me to save time. Consider the work on shadows: I never apply solid black because I like saturating space with hatches and, with digital tools, I can obtain the desired result faster because I can duplicate each of my lines.

Your use of hatches is sometimes reminiscent of Shūzō Oshimi’s…

I don’t know his mangas very well, but it’s funny that you mention him because I recently read his latest series, Okaeri Alice. In any case, I really like his style and I perfectly understand how you can bring his universe and mine together.

The Summer Hikaru Died relies on the concept of body dispossession, that obviously takes back to the Body Snatcher novel by Jack Finney and its movie adaptations. Did you think about it?

I don’t know this book very well, but I know its theme has been approached often, especially in movies. As I was saying at the beginning of this interview, my idea was to adopt the point of view of a non-human and tell his indecision, his moral questions…

We also find this idea in Hitoshi Iwaaki’s Parasite…

I haven’t read the manga fully, but I’ve watched the anime adaptation that was released a few years ago (R/N: in 2014). I remember rather liking it, even if I think I offer something different with The Summer Hikaru Died. What interests me is sounding the inwardness of my non-human character out and expose all his dilemmas. What is his place amongst men? Is he legitimate in our world? Here is the type of questions that pushed me.

One of the impacting scenes of volume 1 of The Summer Hikaru Died is the one when Yoshiki penetrated Hikaru’s body by shoving his arm into his torso. It’s a sequence that is both very sensuaI – to not say sexuaI – and also very horrific. How did you get this idea?

I wanted to put the readers in an uncomfortable position. A stressful situation that could take several forms because, according to your sensitivity, you can feel very different emotions in front of this scene: sexuaI arousaI, fear or disgust. For me, it was supposed to put the reader in some kind of catatonia, you see?

Do you chat a lot with your tantō, especially around these slightly “complicated” scenes?

I have free rein, you know, I can draw everything I want. My editorial supervisor has never asked me to temper some sexuaIIy connotated parts. My discussions with him don’t revolve around this kind of things, but rather around the structure of the scenario itself: where to place this scene in the narration? Is it better to put this sequence before this other one? Nowadays, I am more at ease with all the scripting layout but, at the beginning, I needed support.

What allows you to get, from a dramatic point of view, the mix between bromance and horror?

I wanted to show the differences in sensitivities and values between a human being and an “other than human”, and tell the misunderstandings this can cause when both meet. When Yoshiki “scratches” under the appearance of the one who is supposed to be his best friend, it creates a first point of conflict in the story. I then hoped to make his relationship with Hikaru – or rather with the “entity” that pretends to embody him – a kind of undefinable bond, that wouldn’t be friendship, nor love.

Do you know today where this strange relationship between your two heroes will lead you?

I know more or less how all of this will evolve, yes. I have decided on my story’s general plot since the beginning. I can only tell you that The Summer Hikaru Died won’t be a long series.

How do you explain the almost instant public plebiscite of your series in Japan? You perhaps cannot have perspective on it but, in a saturated publishing landscape, you have managed to stand out…

Hm… Indeed, I don’t really have precise explanations to give you about this success. Maybe the covers’ design has been in favour of the manga? I asked the person in charge of graphics to make sure that the visuals would be noticeable in bookstores. That’s why the books have this monochrome aspect, with the title discreetly placed. I didn’t want obvious advertisement banners, but something simple, like this blue background for the first volume, on which the character stands out. I also wished to create contrast between the jacket’s and the inner cover’s drawings. I thus had requirements that didn’t quite go alongside what we can nowadays see on the shelves of Japanese bookstores.

#the summer hikaru died #hikaru ga shinda natsu #/long post #I'm not a native eng speaker so excuse mistakes!#the fr version has fancy words that I simplified for the eng translation #Feel free to ask any question!#The og article had manga illustrations with funny comments as legends + a short analysis of the manga's narration that I didn't include #The og title was 'Qui se dissemble s'assemble'#which is a play of words saying the opposite of idiom 'Qui se ressemble s'assemble' lit 'who look alike go together'#so I went for a silly equivalent lmao

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mrmuftin · 1 month

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You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, you’re an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole.

The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did.

When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality.

After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society.

No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member.

Your birth made it so that mankind is worse off in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover any state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune.

I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell.

You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair.

You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being.

Even this world's finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are.

Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe.

In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now.

You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet even that would only represent a small part of your evil. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an abomination, but here you are.

It’s hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you.

Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors would have too many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it.

I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you. Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did.

The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant.

Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring.

You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the Black Death and the Smallpox pandemic only happened with the goal of preparing humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankind’s greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created.

If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched.

You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again.

The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe.

I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating, working as hard and efficiently as possible, there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world.

When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe.

Huh?

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